


Seek and Find

by Winterling42



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Imprisonment, Muzzles, Not Enough Regret, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23484757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterling42/pseuds/Winterling42
Summary: After Essek is exposed and imprisoned, the Mighty Nein take matters into their own hands in the most chaotic way possible.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss
Comments: 34
Kudos: 260





	1. Chapter 1

"You have one minute." Essek didn't flinch at the voice of the Dusk Captain at his cell door--but he did when he heard who answered her. 

"Understood." Caleb Widogast ducked his head as the key grated in the lock, a small instinctual bow that he'd always done when nervous. Essek watched him from beneath hooded eyelids. He did not dare react as he wanted--or react at all, not with the guards he'd once commanded aching for blood on the other side of that wall. 

Caleb, pale and resolved, knelt down in front of him. And there was a part of Essek that wanted to spit, to curse and to snarl at the only person who could have betrayed him. That part was immediately shut up by the metal cage around his jaws--to prevent the casting of spells, of course. He could open his mouth just enough to sip water or gruel, an indignity he'd thought he'd die from. The first day. After that, it had simply become something he endured. 

"Essek," Caleb said, so gently. He swallowed, loud enough for Essek to hear, and then went on, "You have no reason to believe me, but...we did not want this. We did not _do_ this." He reached out, like had before, to touch Essek's cheek where the muzzle gave way to bruises. "When, not if. Forgive me that we were not here to speak for you." 

Despite himself, Essek laughed. The sound was choked, thwarted, like all of his other attempts to find a way out of this trap. Even now, Caleb _apologized_. As if anyone in the Court would have listened to him, to them. It was arrogant, it was foolish. It was endearing. 

Caleb's hand fell to his shoulder. "There is still hope, my friend," he said, and never had his words been heavier. Essek only shook his head--the execution was two days from now--but Caleb tightened his grip. Slid something small under the edge of his chains, pressed into the soft skin of his clavicle. "Some lessons must be learned, not taught. I am not giving up on you, Theylss." 

Hadn't they told him he was no longer part of the Den? That his name had been struck from all records, all histories. Among the immortal, he was erased. A short-lived mistake. Of course, no real answer was possible, but he coughed out another small laugh, leaned his forehead against Caleb's. _Thank you_. _For all your foolishness, for all your care. For showing me, however briefly, what I had missed._ If he had been consecuted, if he had believed in the Luxon and the Umavi and all the rest of it--they were what he would've wanted to take into his next life. 

"Wizard." Quana Kryn spoke from the other side of the bars, her voice flat. She would not have approved of this meeting, Essek thought. Which meant Caleb and probably all of the Mighty Nein had petitioned the Bright Queen for it. Even then, why she would _grant_ such a request was a mystery that tugged on spymaster strings Essek had tried many times to cut.

"Do not forget," Caleb said, and was gone before Essek could ask what he meant.


	2. Chapter 2

Time was difficult to tell, in the Dungeon. Essek was fed once more, and then the time had come. No fewer than five Aurora Watch marched into his cell, four of them taking hold of the chains that held him like a fly in the Bright Queen's web, and one captain to stand and glare at him contemptuously. Inside his muzzle, Essek sneered at her as he was dragged to his feet. He had never been beholden to the likes of her, and would not give her the satisfaction of knowing his regret. 

As always, their anger was easier to bear than their pity. 

He was taken up through the Dungeon, out into the familiar Shadowshire, transformed by the spectacle of his appearance. Crowds had gathered, kept at bay by more Aurora Watch, to hiss and throw things at the traitor. The war-maker. The thief. Most of it was rotten vegetables, which his guards did their best to walk him into. They kept a wide enough distance that they themselves were rarely caught in the splatter, but some of the missiles were much worse--stones, pieces of wood, even a few metal sling bullets whizzed around his ears. Most didn't land--they were only peasants--but a few did make extremely painful contact. One bounced off his shoulder, and when he hunched forward Essek felt the thing Caleb had given him shift precariously beneath his tunic. Instinctively he brought his hands up to steady it, only to be pulled short by the chains. The guards chuckled, almost inaudible under the roar of the crowd. Essek tightened his jaw and straightened, careful not to dislodge the hidden thing. 

They paraded him through the Gallimaufry, making a show of it. Even as his body ached after days of abuse and neglect, Essek found himself admiring the strategy. The war, while satisfying certain interests, had not been popular among the people of Rosohna. The Queen gave them each a chance to take out their ire on the one responsible, and in so doing redirected them away from her own culpability. 

Once, he thought he saw Beauregard in the throng, but when he would have stopped to look one of his keepers yanked the chain forward, so suddenly that he almost fell. After that he kept flicking his eyes over the crowd, looking for the distinctive shapes of the Mighty Nein. 

But even looking, he didn't see Nott until she kicked his legs out from under him. 

Essek fell forward, made graceless by his chains, and heard the cheers as he hit the ground face first. 

"That's for my husband," a familiar voice hissed, inches from his ear. Essek gasped, heaving air through a mouth that wouldn't open. The guards hadn't noticed her yet, and were only shaking the chains in a desultory manner to get him to stand. A putrid cabbage skidded along the ground towards Essek's face, only to be shunted aside at the last second and colliding with his chest instead. Even Essek wasn't certain where the diversion came from, though he could hazard a guess. 

"And this is for helping me," Nott whispered, and Essek felt the muzzle....fall away. There was a frozen moment, in which all the sound in the world died away. Essek stared down at the cobblestones, the metal contraption lying on top of them. His jaw ached and popped when he stretched it. 

" _Uk zah duul'sso!"_ He is free. 

Essek did not have time to look for Nott, still invisible somewhere. He did not have time to whisper more than, "Thank you," and hope she could hear. He closed his eyes and, for the first time in days, let his mind fill with spell-runes and diagrams. The cheers of the crowd changed to cries of fear and outrage. None of it mattered--in a moment, the spell took hold, and he was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

The last ragged edges of the spell coalesced in his mouth. Essek felt the teleportation sink deep into his flesh, grabbing hold and _pulling_ him forward. There was an outcry from the guards; one of them managed to take a swing in the moments before he disappeared. The blade cut deep into his side, but it was nothing. There was _nothing_ , for a brief instant, as he was yanked.... _shit_. He hadn't specified a destination, too caught up in the alarm being raised around him. 

The spell spit him out on a hill, somewhere. The ground was rocky, the air frigidly cold. Essek wrapped the tatters of his mantle around himself and looked around, shivering. It was night here, even outside of the radius of Rosohna. The moon glittered off of thin snow banks, and all around him unfamiliar mountains rose up to bite the sky. There was no sign of civilization as far as he could see, not smoke or light or even abandoned buildings. Slowly, Essek sank down to his knees, and then sat with a small _thump_ upon the half-frozen ground. For a moment he could not muster the energy to do any more than breathe. Finally, still in shock from the unlikeliness of his escape, he reached up to pull free the gift Caleb had given him. 

The paper was worn, now, stained with his sweat and creased where it had been folded around some small object. On the corner, in familiar spidery handwriting, was written, "We'll find you. -CW" Essek shuddered--with relief, he thought, but a certain amount of fear as well. There was a promise in those words that might not be friendly. Essek knew very well how the Mighty Nein treated those who they perceived as wrong-doers. And he had no guarantee, even now, that they looked upon him kindly. 

Gently, he unfolded the paper and caught the cold metal pendant wrapped within it. It was made of gold, with a dark ruby set into the center and surrounded by a hundred minuscule lines of enchanting runes. Essek recognized it at once as the one Caleb wore, mostly hidden, beneath his shirt. He slipped it on, feeling the magic begin to settle over him like a shroud as the process of attunement began. 

There was something written on the other side of the paper. He turned it over, unfolding it a bit more, and saw the crumpled corner of a spell circle. His heart gave an uncomfortably eager jump as he imagined all of the spells they--or really, Caleb--could have sent with him, even as a scroll he could...

Essek sat in the mud, his fingers quickly growing numb, a hundred miles from shelter, and he started to laugh. There was a hysterical edge to it, as many tears as hiccuping giggles. Because he knew Caleb Widogast, and he knew the Mighty Nein. They had sent him away not with anything terrible, or dangerous, or even very useful. Here, a page clearly taken from Caleb's own spellbook, was the spell Find Familiar.

Essek laughed, and, unknowing, made the saving throw to prevent him from being scried on by the Dynasty's furious Taskhands while he attuned to the necklace. 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr at [critical-ramblings](https://www.critical-ramblings.tumblr.com)!


End file.
